


Scarlet Lips, Cerulean Eyes

by Finnoola



Series: Beautifully Twisted Fairy Tales [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Folk Tale, Alternate Universe - Little Red Riding Hood Fusion, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, dont ask me about the time period because i have no idea, i said what i said, slight age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnoola/pseuds/Finnoola
Summary: Changbin is a werewolf that lives alone by himself, deep in the woods away from town. He never strays too close to town, but one day, he does. There, he meets a beautiful boy, at the edges of the forest. Despite his efforts to scare the boy away, he starts to become attached to him.Jisung lives on the outskirts of the town with his parents. One day, Jisung takes a shortcut to get to his grandmother's house, and finds a wolf along the way. The wolf warns Jisung of things more dangerous than he, but Jisung cannot help but be mesmerized by the werewolf.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin
Series: Beautifully Twisted Fairy Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047979
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	Scarlet Lips, Cerulean Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> alrighty lets get this story rolling! welcome back to another fic of mine!!! (*・ω・)ﾉ
> 
> honestly, this came to me when i was reading another fic, (a really good chanlix one), and thought, 'hey no one has done a folktale au yet for bisung'.
> 
> SO, long story short, after 5 days, i present to you this mass of words, hopefully coherent enough for you to understand. if you hadn't noticed already, its like little red riding hood, but with a twist. there's magic in this world, which will be slowly revealed as chaps come out. 
> 
> A note on chapters!!!! this will be updated whenever i feel like writing for this fic, as after Milky Way Tears is done, i will be regularly updating Calling For You instead. 
> 
> anyways, enough of me rambling, you're here to read, so go ahead and dive in!

_ Winter _

The air in the forest is thick with cold, the frost seeming to crawl up his throat as he walked. Jisung huffs, pulling the red cloak around him tighter, his hood hanging low on his head. His boots make crunching sounds as they press into the fresh layer of snow on the forest floor. The cold seems to leak into his bones, puffs of air solidifying into mist in front of his face. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are rosy red, but he still continues on. 

Jisung wasn’t sure why he decided that he’d take a shortcut to his grandmother’s house, he’d never strayed from the path that took him there. But it was cold, and it seemed to cling to his bones, making him feel like he was drenched in wet snow. Jisung hated the cold, maybe that’s why he decided, after years of going the same route, that just this once, he’d take a shortcut. 

It wasn’t dark, per se, in the forest, but the canopy of pine trees he was walking through made it seem later than it was. Jisung adjusted the basket of goods that his mother had put together for his grandmother, and silently cursed why she had to live a little deeper in the forest than Jisung’s own family. 

Jisung’s family lived just on the cusp of the forest, just straddling the pine trees and oaks lining the large forest north of their town. But his grandmother lived a little deeper in the tree line. There was a well worn path that jisung would usually take, but it went the long way around, and he couldn’t handle being in the cold any longer than that. He should’ve known that taking the direct route, would lead to his doom. 

He can tell he’s close, as he spots a plume of smoke above the barren trees, signalling his grandmother’s small cottage. He quickened his pace, only to be stopped by a blur in the corner of his vision. Jisung turns his head to the left and slows down, until he’s stopped behind a very large tree trunk. He carefully inches forward, despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to run away. 

Jisung knows that there is nothing in the forest that could hurt him, not anymore. But his curiosity is piqued, wanting to know what had skimmed across his vision for just a second. He peers around the tree trunk, eyes scanning the area when a twig snaps. His eyes turn toward the sound, eyes widening at the sight. 

About 20 meters away, stands an enormous, black wolf. His head is bowed, nose digging into the carcass of a deer it had killed. Its fur is shaggy and darker than the sky at midnight. It looks powerful, mouth easily ripping through the deer’s skin and flesh like nothing. Blood stains the snow around it, a trail made by the deer who had tried to run for naught. 

A shaky breath excites his lips, body trembling. There should be no wolves here, there haven’t been wolves here since his father was a young man, since his grandfather was still alive. But there the wolf is, proud and  _ hungry _ . 

The wolf continues to tear through the carcass of the deer, thoroughly enraptured in its meal. Jisung takes that as a sign that he is safe to leave, and begins to slowly back away. He takes a few steps back, before he crushes a stick under foot. 

Immediately, the wolf’s head snaps up in his direction. 

Jisung gasps, not because he’s scared, though that is part of it, but because the wolf has the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. Not many people in his town have blue eyes, that vibrant, so he’s momentarily stunned when the wolf pins its own on Jisung. A shaky breath leaves his lungs, the wolf’s ears twitching ever so slightly at his little movement. 

He doesn’t have time to think, not when the wolf breaks into a run straight towards him. A yelp leaves his throat, before he stumbles into a run away from the wolf. If he can make it out of the forest to his house, then maybe…. 

But the wolf is much faster than Jisung and is soon on his heels. Snow is not easy to run in, so it's a slight icy patch buried underneath that has Jisung falling. He tumbles on to the ground, groaning when he makes contact with the snow. Jisung turns onto his back, and is shocked to see the wolf, now slowly prowling towards him. He tries to back up a bit, but the wolf suddenly pounces on him, pinning him to the floor with it’s hefty weight. He feels the air get knocked out of his lungs, one of the wolf’s large paws pinning his chest down. The other is on his left shoulder, where he can feel the wolf’s claws dig into his clothes slightly. 

Jisung trembles, from the cold and realization that he is going to be mauled by a hungry wolf. He shuts his eyes, feeling tears leak from them when he feels the wolf shift on top of him. Terrified, Jisung keeps his eyes closed, before he hears a raspy chuckle in his ear. 

“You didn’t think I was going to eat you now, were you?” 

Jisung snaps his eyes open, and is met with a handsome man pinning him to the ground instead of a feral wolf. He’s shocked, because the man has the same bright blue eyes that the wolf had, and stark black hair. He has Jisung’s wrists pinned above his head in one hand, the other pinning his shoulder to the ground. There’s a wooden amulet, a little totem hanging from the man’s neck, but Jisung is too scared to make out what it is. The man above him cocks his head, and it's with red-hot embarrassment that Jisung realizes that the man is  _ naked _ . 

Jisung flushes, trying to push the man off him to no avail. The man is incredibly strong, stronger than anyone Jisung has met. He tries to kick his legs but finds them pinned under the man’s thighs. He huffs, tears staining his cheeks before he speaks.

“W-what are you?” Jisung stutters outs, watching as the man eyes him curiously, before realization dawns on his face.

“Ah, yes, you wouldn’t know, not like the others would,” The man says vaguely before letting his wrists go. 

Jisung lets his arms flop to the ground, exhausted from trying to kick the mysterious man off him. He watches as the black-haired man leans back a little, hands beside Jisung’s head instead. 

“I’m a wolf,” The man says as a way of explanation, like Jisung is just going to believe him. 

Jisung feels confusion flood his face, watching as the man sighed before leaning in closer. 

“Now, why don’t you tell me why a human is so far off into the forest, away from the usual hunting grounds and paths, hm?” The man asks, Jisung catching sight of the other’s sharp canines.

Jisung gulps, before speaking. 

“I-I was taking a shortcut,” He stammers, feeling small and scared underneath the wolfman’s vibrant eyes, “To my grandmothers.”

The wolf leans back a little, eyes scanning over the other’s face, before a smirk pulls across his lips. Jisung watches as the man rolls off him, flushing when more of the man’s body is revealed. His eyes skate away, focusing terribly hard on a tree just beside him. 

The wolf chuckles, before turning around. 

“I’d suggest you stick to the paths,” The man says, walking forward a few steps, “Less chance you’ll be mauled by something, much more dangerous than I.” 

Jisung pulls himself, words slipping past his lips before he can catch them. 

“W-what’s your name?” He shouts to the man. 

The man stops, seeming to debate with himself before looking over his shoulder.

“Changbin,” He replies, before his body is morphing and contorting back into a wolf. Jisung watches, fascinated by the display, as the man he’d been talking to, transforms into the wolf he’d been running from earlier. The wolf keeps walking, not even giving Jisung so much as a parting glance as he leaves. 

Jisung sits there, adrenaline wearing off as his mind takes in what he had just seen. He sniffs, wiping the snow off his trousers and cloak, before getting up off the ground. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the basket is unharmed, before turning his eyes to the sky. The smoke is still present, Jisung turns in the direction it is coming from. As he leaves, he looks behind him one last time, trying to see the wolf. 

Going the rest of the way to his grandmother’s was easy, no more encounters with wolves or handsome men pinning him to the ground. When he knocks on his grandmother’s door, she ushers him in, fretting over his soaked clothes. She urges him to sit by the fire, making him discard his wet clothes and laying them flat in front of the roaring flames. She wraps a blanket around his bare shoulders, telling him to sit down as she makes him something warm to drink. 

So here he sat on the floor, next to her rocking chair. He was covered in warm blankets made by his grandmother, who were both seated close to the fire, now. He could hear the scraping of the wooden knitting needles she used as she knitted, his own hands preoccupied with a wooden hook he carved himself, a ball of black yarn in his lap. He wasn’t one to hunt, not like the others in town. 

And while it wasn't unusual for men to knit or crochet, it seemed that Jisung had become an outlier amongst the men his age. They hunted, or were smithies. They boasted their kills to all that would hear and spent time getting drunk in the town tavern. They were loud and rambunctious, and Jisung was too, but a little less so. 

Jisung was different. 

Jisung liked nature, and only believed that animals should be hunted for food when needed. He hated it when the others went to hunt for sport, proudly toting the carcass of a red fox or white rabbit. He enjoyed the forest, plants, animals, and trees. While his friends were busy off hunting with their fathers, Jisung was helping his mother and grandmother out instead. His own father, and while he disliked that Jisung despised hunting, he still loved his son. At least Jisung would live longer than his more reckless counterparts. 

Until now that is. As Jisung slipped the hook through the stitch and pulled the yarn over it, his mind went back to the bright blue eyes of the wolf man. He wondered why, of all times, had he bumped into him. Was it because the wolf man stayed away from where the townspeople usually hunted in the forest? Had Jisung been the first of many who'd ignored the boundaries set by the town and crossed them? 

It was odd, in his whole 20 years of life, he'd never once caught a glimpse of the black wolf. 

"You've been awfully quiet for some time now," His grandmother said, eyes not lifting from her knitting, "Usually you're nattering off like a woodpecker by now. Did something happen on your way here?” 

Jisung stopped what he was doing, hesitating slightly before he spoke.

"No, I just, got surprised by a rabbit is all." He said, listening to his grandmother chuckle.

"Surprised by a little ol'rabbit? Is that why you were soaking wet when he showed up at the door?” She chortled, eyes looking down at him briefly. 

Jisung pouted, trying to return to his crocheting.

"It was a big rabbit," He said in return, his grandmother chuckling again. 

"It must've been if it shocked you so hard you fell on your bum."

Jisung wrinkled his nose, eyes staring at the black yarn in his hands. Black hair, shaggy and long, untamed and wild, looking so soft-

Jisung balked, mind skittering to a stop at the thoughts rolling through his head. With a slight shake of his head, he concentrated on his crocheting again. He was not going to entertain that idea. While the wolf man had been handsome, he was also not the slightest bit attracted to him, no. Even with that thought, Jisung still felt a flush grace his cheeks. 

The pair continued on in silence, Jisung too wrapped up on blue eyes and onyx hair to even start a conversation. 

His grandmother had shooed him away, once the sun was beginning to set. She kissed him on the head and pulled his cloak around him tighter. 

"Be safe, alright? I know the woods are safe, but you can never be too careful, even now." His grandmother murmured. 

For some reason the words seemed to strike a chord in his head, one that had him wondering if his grandmother knew of things he did not. Instead of asking, he nodded his head, pulling his hood over his hair. 

"I will." He said simply, before walking out the front door. 

He walked down the wooden steps, careful of the ice that lined some of them. When he reached the path, he turned around and waved a little at his grandmother. His grandmother smiled, waving him off towards home. 

Jisung sighed, his breath coming out again in misty puffs. He adjusted his jacket before walking off. 

He took the path this time.

Jisung stands in the stables, grooming his father's horse. He’s absentmindedly running the grooming brush through the horse’s mane. His thoughts are still on the events that happened yesterday. He wonders, and then he stops. It does no good for someone to wonder, especially about things such as this. So Jisung continues to brush the horse’s pelt, whispering a song as he did so. 

“Is she all ready for me?” His father’s voice says from the front of the stable. 

Jisung turns to look at his father. His father was a very broad and tall man. He was at least 6’1, and built like a lumberjack. He had a rough and long beard and moustache, and stern looking eyes. His face was lined from age, and there were a few gray hairs set in a streak at the right side of his head running through his long black ponytail. 

His father had his bow slung over his shoulder, hunting knives slung from his waist. He was dressed in a thick coat and gloves, no hat to cover his head.  Some questioned whether Jisung was really his father’s son, seeing as Jisung was nowhere near as tall or broad as his father. Jisung was slighter, more lean, than his muscle bound father and older brother. His face was round and soft, cheeks full and lips plump. He also had stark orange hair, an odd colour that didn’t match his mother’s or father’s own hair. But Jisung didn’t mind, even when his brother used to taunt him when they were kids, always holding items Jisung wanted high above his head. Even when the other’s would make fun of his odd coloured hair. Even then, he was fine. 

Jisung nodded curtly, patting the horse on the side before stepping back.

“Hm, she’s all ready.” Jisung said, watching as his father approached the horse. 

His father secured the saddle bags once more, eyes scanning over the bags before turning to the stable door. Jisung looked over, and saw his older brother, Bogum, stride in. Bogum was handsome, much more so than Jisung, if he was being honest. He had a sharp jaw-line and straight nose. He was broad and strong, unlike Jisung, who was a little mousey.

His brother gave him a little smirk as he approached the other horse he had gotten ready. 

“How’s the air down there, little brother?” Bogum sneered, leaning down to make eye contact with Jisung. 

Jisung ignored him, keeping his eyes firmly on the saddle bags. His older brother rolled his eyes, before taking the horses reins. 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a mama’s boy, you’d have grown a little taller.”

“Bogum, enough,” His father’s voice cuts through the air, having finished his inspection of the saddle bags. 

He turns to Jisung, a soft smile on his face which Jisung returns. 

“Be good, okay? Make sure you help your mother with anything she needs, alright?” His father murmurs to him, patting him on the shoulder.

“I will,” Jisung said, watching as both his brother and father led their horses out of the stable. 

He walked to the stable door, waving at them as they mounted their horses and took off down the path. Jisung watched as they got to the end of the path, meeting up with the others in their hunting party. Waiting until he could no longer see them, Jisung rushed back to the house. Opening the door, he kicked his shoes off quickly, brushing past his mother in the small kitchen. 

“Jisung, has your father and brother left yet?” She asked, as he passed by.

“Yes, they just left a few minutes ago,” He called over his shoulder, as he raced to his room at the end of the hall. 

He pushed open the door, quickly scouring the room for his bag and cloak. When he finds both, he picks them up, hurrying out again. His mother watches as he flies past, eyebrows quirked as he dons his red cloak and boots again. 

“Where are you going?” She asks from the stove, poking at the fire with a poker. 

“I’m going for a walk, I’ll be back before dinner.” Jisung explained, throwing his bag over his shoulder. 

His mother walked up to him, smiling at him gently before kissing him on the forehead. 

“Be safe, alright?” She murmured. 

Jisung nodded, before opening the door again. He started down the usual path, the one that would take him to his grandmother’s house. When he was sure he was out of sight, He rushed quickly to the mouth of the forest. He stopped, standing just at the edge of the tree line, before stepping off the path. 

It was a terrible idea, but Jisung was just so curious about the wolf man, that he just had to find him again. So he threw caution to the wind, and wandered off the path, into the depths of the forest. He made sure he was nowhere near the hunting grounds that his father would be at, going east instead of west off the path. Jisung walked through branches and trees, boots crunching sticks and snow heavily underfoot. 

He looks around, cloak wrapped around him tightly as he looks about. He continues to walk further and further, unsure of if he’d even meet the wolfman again. The wolfman, whose name was Changbin. 

Jisung continued to trek through the underbrush, carefully keeping an eye out. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, but soon enough, Jisung grew tired. Huffing out a breath, dusted off a fallen log and sat down on it. He pulled his cloak around him tighter, before turning to look in his bag. He rummaged around for a moment, before taking out a pad of parchment and charcoal. 

Jisung sat on the log, sketching the trees above and writing mindless things down when he heard something. Dropping his charcoal on his lap, his head snapped up, brown eyes meeting bright blue ones. 

The wolfman was a wolf right now, and he sat there, eyes boring into him. Jisung stared back, watching as the other eventually let out snort, before padding off behind a pine bush. Jisung blinked, hearing small cracks, and rustling before the wolf man stepped back out as a man. This time, he wore loose black pants, and black boots reaching his knees. Yet he wore no shirt, chest bare, with the same strange amulet hanging from his neck.

Jisung blushed before stuttering out a question.

“A-Aren’t you cold?”

The wolf man chuckled, stepping closer as he spoke. 

“Our body temperatures run a lot higher than your own, so no, I'm not cold.” The wolfman, Changbin said. 

Jisung frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, as he wrapped his red cloak around him tighter. Changbin cocked his head to the side, eyes peering at him curiously before speaking. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said simply, walking a little bit away from the younger.

Jisung huffed, “And why is that?” 

Changbin quirked his eyebrow at the other, amused by his response. He turned back around to look at him, and Jisung realized how short the wolf man actually was. He was just a shy bit shorter than Jisung, but the aura he exuded made him seem bigger than he really was. Jisung gulped when the wolf man’s eyes turned dark, into a sort of emotion that Jisung had never seen before. 

“Like I said before, there are things much more dangerous than I, lurking here.” 

Jisung felt a shiver run down his spine, Changbin’s voice having gotten lower as he spoke to him. 

“There’s nothing in this forest that can hurt me,” Jisung fired back, wondering why the man was so adamant that he would get hurt, “All the predators were driven out ages ago, not even wolves, are supposed to be here.”

Jisung watched as the man chuckled, before leaning down to look at him. He squeaked, the other having gotten right up in his face. He stared back, breathing shallow as wolf man’s eyes bore into him. He wasn’t sure what the other was playing at, but he was determined to get an answer out of him. 

“You’re right,” Changbin breathed out, his breath ghosting over Jisung’s lips, “There is nothing left in this forest that could hurt you, except for me, that is.”

Jisung exhaled shakily at his words, watching as the wolfman’s eyes turned predatory. He stood up quickly, pushing the other back and rushing to hide behind a tree trunk. The wolfman laughed at him, watching as he peered from around the trunk. 

Jisung pouted, watching as the man continued to laugh at him, clearly playing with him. 

“That was rude,” Jisung muttered, picking at the bark on the tree trunk. 

Changbin eventually stopped laughing at him, a smile on his face as he took in the pouting boy. 

“What’s your name?” Changbin asked, eyes curious. 

Jisung came out from behind the tree trunk a bit, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before answering. 

“My name’s Jisung, you said yesterday your name was Changbin, right?” Jisung asked softly, watching as the wolf nodded. 

“That’s right, I’m surprised you remembered.” Changbin said before a small smirk came across his lips. “But since you came back here, I shouldn’t be that surprised.”

Jisung flushed, not willing to let the man know exactly why he’d really come here, that he was curious about him. He looks down at the snow-covered ground, biting at his lip, lost in his thoughts. He doesn't notice the wolfman come closer, not until he’s just a breath away. 

“Your hair is awfully bright for someone who lives in that town,” Changbin murmured to himself, hand coming up and brushing a stray lock of it out of Jisung’s eyes.

Jisung looked back up at the wolf, breath caught in his throat as the other’s rough fingers glided briefly over his forehead. He watched as the other’s eyes twinkled in thought, eyebrows furrowed as he took in Jisung’s bright ginger hair. 

“Firebird, because of your hair,” Changbin says suddenly, “That’s what you remind me of.”

Jisung blushes, a warm feeling tickling his heart. It was a beautiful nickname, one unlike the horrid ones his brother and other’s had called him as a child, and even now. He averts his eyes downwards, unable to keep up with the other’s deep stare. 

He lets out a breath when Changbin steps back, small hands coming up to pull at his cloak. Changbin watches him with dark eyes, before turning on his heel. 

“Ah, wait-” Jisung says, stumbling a bit after him

Changbin stops, looking behind him at Jisung. Jisung stops, flushing again under the other’s curious gaze. 

“Um, if it's alright,” He started out, hands pulling at the sleeves of his white shirt, “Could I see you again?” 

A myriad of emotions flash across Changbin’s face, Jisung picking out only two of them that he recognized. A pained sort of look, and one of deep sorrow, before his face turned back into his usually cocky grin. 

“Already missing me, Firebird?” Changbin teased, enjoying the way the red flush looked on the younger’s skin. 

“W-what-no!” Jisung sputtered out, cheeks tinting even more at the nickname. “I just-find you interesting, that’s all.” 

Changbin looked away for second, humming to himself as he thought. 

“I guess, I could make an exception for you, that is.” 

Jisung’s face broke into a wide smile, one that had the wolfman momentarily dazed by how bright and pure it was. Mentally he shook his head, before beginning to walk off. 

“Ah-” Jisung called out again, the wolfman’s shoulder slumping before he turned to face the younger man again. 

“Yes?” He sighed out, a tiny smile on his face. 

Jisung bit his lip, pulling his cloak around him once again before looking up. 

“Could I, come with you?” 

Changbin blinked at the words, before a breathy chuckle fell past his lips.

“I’m not doing much, Firebird,” Changbin informed the other, watching his cheeks pink again at the nickname, “But, if you so wish, you may tag along for a bit.”

Jisung perked up at the words, scrambling back to the log and picking up his discarded pad of parchment and charcoal. He hastily shoved them in his bag, the wolfman watching him with amused eyes. He skipped up to the wolfman, a shy smile on his face. 

Changbin shook his head with a smile, before turning around and beginning to walk off again. Jisung followed after him, adjusting his bag over his shoulder as he walked. 

“So, what were you doing before you found me?” He inquired, eyes carefully watching his feet as he clambered over twigs, rocks and dead pieces of wood. 

“I was taking a stroll, doing a bit of hunting, nothing much, really.” Changbin answered, eyes flitting about the forest. 

Jisung felt his lips quirk up at the words. “Do wolves tend to take strolls?” 

Changbin rolled his eyes, turning to look behind him at the cloaked-boy. 

“Isn’t that what you were doing? Minus the fact that you were looking for me of course.”

Jisung pinked at the words, eyes steadily looking at his feet as he walked. 

“I wasn’t looking for you…” Jisung mumbled petulant, unwilling to even let the wolfman have the pleasure of knowing even that. 

Changbin snorted. “Of course you weren’t, who takes a stroll off their usual path, and delves deep into the woods after meeting a wolf from just the day before?” 

Jisung stayed quiet, unable to refute the wolf’s claim. They walked a little more in silence, before Jisung spoke up again.

“You said you were hunting, but you,” Jisung paused, mind mulling over the wolfman standing over the deer carcass from yesterday, “You were hunting yesterday? Why are you hunting again?” 

“I don’t spend my time entirely as a wolf, Firebird,” Changbin explained, head turning around to look at the ginger, “I do spend my time like your kind as well.” 

Jisung nodded his head, before focusing back on walking. They walked in companionable silence, Jisung’s eyes flitting up briefly to rake over the other’s form. He was broad, arms and legs strong and sinewy. He just flushed, eyes flickering away when he realized he’d been staring a little too hard at the other’s broad back. 

The silence was broken when the wolf suddenly spoke up. 

“I can hear the hunters, in the far off distance,” Changbin said, eyes focusing on the tree line. “Which begs the question, why aren’t you with them?”

The wolfman turned to look at him as he stopped, Jisung almost colliding with the other. He looked down at his feet, hands fiddling with the strap of his bag before answering.

“I’m not much of a hunter,” Jisung murmured, eyes staring down at his leather boots.

Changbin stared at him, head cocked the side as Jisung spoke, unloading his thoughts to a man he barely knew. 

“I’m a lot smaller than the others in town, also a lot weaker,” He explained, voice a little fragile, “And I don’t like killing for sport. So, I don’t go with them.”

Jisung stood there, breath shaky in the silence that followed.

“You sure are different, Firebird.” Changbin said, causing Jisung’s head to snap up and look at him. 

There was a tiny smile on his face, one that brought heat to Jisung’s cheeks. 

“But I like that.”

Jisung sood there, watching as the wolfman began to walk again. Jisung let out a breath he didn’t know he was even holding, before hurrying after the other. 

Jisung sighs, pulling off his bag and his cloak at the door. He watches his mother prepare dinner, her long skirt swaying as she rustles around the kitchen. Kneeling down, he unlaces his boots, and places them by the fire, wanting them to be dry for tomorrow. 

“How was your walk, darling?” His mother asks from where she’s standing over the woodstove. 

He looks up, catching his mother’s twinkling brown eyes. His mind flashes back to the events of the day, blood rushing to his cheeks. He shook his head before smiling softly at her. 

“It was nice, cold, but nice.” He replied, walking forward and into the kitchen. 

The kitchen and den was one big room, the fireplace on the far left of the house, where couches and chairs sat. The kitchen and the dining table sat on the right side, with the pantry door a little off to the side. A hallway sat in the middle of the house, which led to the rooms in the back. There were three bedrooms, one for his parents, his brother, and himself. The last two rooms were used as his mother’s sewing room and the bath. 

Jisung walked until he was right beside his mother, who smiled up at him. 

“Do you need any help?” He asked, eyeing the uncut vegetables on the counter. 

“Oh, yes, could you be a dear and cut the carrots and celery up for the stew?” His mother asked, washing a few potatoes in a basin of water. 

He nodded, already picking up the knife and expertly cutting the vegetables up for his mother. Jisung was okay at cooking. He knew enough from his mother to get by and not starve. His brother Bogum had refused to even learn how to cook, except for learning how to prep meat and cook it. Bogum insisted that it was his wife’s job, when he finally got married. Jisung had only rolled his eyes at that, feeling terribly sorry for whatever poor girl fell for his brother’s conniving charms. 

He finished cutting up the carrots, before moving onto the celery. He slides the carrots pieces into the boiling pot, while his mother stirs it and begins to add more spices. Jisung takes a stalk of celery and pushes the knife down when the door slams open. Gasping, Jisung slices is finger open on the knife, a sliver of blood appearing on his finger. Pulling his hand back, Jisung turns to glare at his brother, who stands in the doorway, a fully grown stag thrown over his shoulders. His mother rushes over to his side, fretting over the blood dripping down his hand. 

As his mother inspects his hand, he watches as his brother’s face sours, their mother’s attention not on him. He snorts, walking out of the house with the deer still over his shoulders. His father walks in after he leaves, glancing briefly at Bogum before stripping his gloves off and placing them on the little table by the door. 

“Bogum caught a stag,” His father grunts out, walking over to the fire and warming his hands in front of it. 

“Oh, he did, did he?” His mother hums, preoccupied with bandaging Jisung’s finger. 

Jisung sits at the kitchen table, his mother winding a small strip of white cloth around his pointer finger. She smiles gently when she’s finished, pressing a little kiss to the wound before ruffling his hair. 

“Be more careful, okay?” She murmurs, before turning back to the counter. “I’ll finish the rest, you just sit there.”

Jisung nods, a little peeved about his brother’s rude entrance that he doesn’t argue with her. His father walks up to the table, taking his seat at the head of it. HIs father sniffs, before turning to look at him. 

“How was your day?” His father asks, voice low. 

Jisung looked up at his father, biting his lip as he spoke. 

“It was good, I went for a walk and sketched some of the trees in the forest today.” Jisung said, not mentioning he had done that in the parts of the forest that no one else ventured into. 

His father hummed. “May I see?” 

Jisung looked at his father, slightly surprised, before nodding his head slightly. He got up from his seat, and walked over to the wooden coat rack. Laying on the floor below it was his bag. He kneeled down, carefully taking out the pad of parchment. He flipped to the most recent sketch, breathing out sigh of relief when the words scribbled beside were in no relation to Changbin. 

He returned to the table, handing his father the pad of parchment before sitting down. His father took it, eyes scanning the page as he nodded. 

“You get better every day, Jisung.” His father said, a proud smile on his face. 

Jisung smiled back at his father, taking the pad back when he was finished looking at it. He took out the charcoal from his pocket, and began to sketch something else. His father took out his pipe and lit it, blowing smoke gently into the air as he sat. The only noises were the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot, and sounds of his mother humming to herself as she cooked. 

His hand glides across the paper, making small short strokes. He’s fully absorbed into the drawing, that he doesn’t hear Bogum come up behind him. 

Suddenly the pad is ripped out from under his hand, Jisung whirling around and reaching for the paper. 

“Bogum, give it back!” Jisung cried out, his brother smirking as he held it high above his head. 

Bogum flipped the pad over and inspected the drawing, his lips curling at the picture. 

“What’s this little brother?” Bogum sneered, looking at Jisung over the paper. 

Jisung huffed, standing up and trying to grab the pad out of Bogum’s hands. He frowned when Bogum snatched it out of reach, Jisung chasing after it. 

“It’s not done, just give it back!” Jisung begged, trying to no avail to get the drawing back. 

“Bogum, let your brother have his drawing back.” Their father’s voice rang out, stopping Bogum who dropped his hand slowly. 

Bogum looked at their father, who stared challengingly at him, before Bogum huffed and threw the pad onto the table behind Jisung. Jisung watched as his brother left, walking past the table and grabbing his coat from the rack. He left without so much as a goodbye, the door slamming closed behind him. 

Jisung turned to the table, picking up the pad of parchment, before hugging it to his chest. Blue eyes flashed before his own, before he turned and walked to his room down the hall. 

Jisung panted, feet struggling through the layer of fresh snow that had fallen the night before. He grumbled, stumbling a bit when his boot sank further into the wet substance. Lifting his foot, he powered forward, feet carrying him to the meeting place. 

_ “How will I find you again?” Jisung asked curiously, as he followed the wolfman through the trees.  _

_ Changbin didn’t answer immediately, not until a few moments later when he stopped. Jisung startled, bumping into the other’s back with a huff. He peered past the wolfman, noticing the oddly coloured tree standing before them. It was a birch tree, but the left half of it was blackened, as if it had been burned, while the other side was still pure white. The branches on the left side were all black as well, matching the left side of the trunk. _

_ Jisung stepped forward, eyes taking in the tree curiously before Changbin spoke from behind him.  _

_ “This tree is right off the path from where your grandmother’s house is, about half way there,” Changbin explained, coming to stand beside Jisung, “If you remember this tree tomorrow, than maybe, we could possibly meet again.” _

Jisung was pulled out of his thoughts when he spotted the tree, the familiar blackened bark a flash of ink against the white landscape. He ran up to the tree, head looking around as he did so. When he got close enough to it, he spun in a circle, trying to catch sight of a black wolf. 

He frowned, eyes not catching sight of anything in the distance when a twig snapping caught his attention. Jisung whirled around and was met with Changbin standing there. 

“I see you made it back here,” Changbin said with a chuckle, walking up to the cloaked boy. 

He was wearing a shirt this time, a black one with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It matched with his black pants and leather boots, the wooden amulet around his neck swinging gently. In his hands was a block of wood, a small carving knife strapped to his thigh. Changbin stopped in front of Jisung, a smirk on his face. 

Jisung flushed again. He was always doing that in the other’s presence and it infuriated him to no end. Wrapping the cloak around his shivering form, Jisung spoke. 

“Of course I did,” Jisung said, his voice small as he spoke. 

Changbin chuckled, eyeing the other with his silver-tinted blue eyes. The wolfman walked forward, leaning into Jisung’s personal space. Jisung squeaked, leaning back a bit in surprise. 

“You’re quite skittish, aren’t you, Firebird?” Changbin noted, watching as Jisung blushed harder at the words. 

“I am not, you just don’t understand personal space,” Jisung bit out, his cloak flapping around him as he turned to sit on a fallen log. 

Changbin smiled, watching as the other sat down. Jisung took out the pad of parchment and charcoal, trying to ignore the way the wolfman’s eyes bore into him. Eventually, Changbin sat down across from him on another log. He unsheathed his knife and started to carve at the wood. 

Jisung’s eyes flickered up from his sketch, eyes watching the wolfman chip away at the wood. He was efficient and skillful, seeming like he’d been doing this for years. Jisung watched him for a bit, a bit entranced by the way he held the knife so that he could carve such fine lines. 

“You’re staring, Firebird,” Changbin murmured, not looking up from the piece of wood he was carving. 

Jisung blushed, head dropping back to his sketch. He worked furiously, wanting the red on his cheeks that matched his cloak to fade away. Changbin just laughed, looking up briefly at Jisung. The wolfman continued to carve away at the wood, turning the piece over deftly in his hand. 

“You draw?” Changbin asked, voice heavy with curiosity. 

Jisung looked up from his parchment pad for a second before nodding. 

“Yes, have been since I was a child.” Jisung replied, eyes flickering over his sketch. 

“It’s always good to have a craft like that under your belt,” Changbin said, flicking a sliver of wood away, “Most humans look down on those who practice an art.” 

Jisung looked up, head cocked as he listened to the other speak. 

“They don’t learn to slow down a little, to enjoy little things,” Changbin looked up, catching Jisung’s brown doe eyes, “Humans are reckless, impatient, and ruthless.” 

Changbin’s voice has an edge to it, one soaked in pain and blood. Jisung shivers at the words, and at the dark look on Changbin’s face. His blue eyes have turned more silver, shining like little coins. He continues to carve at the wood, Jisung’s heart thumping in his chest. 

Changbin looks down again, before speaking. 

“I apologize,” Changbin starts out, stopping what he was doing for a moment, “Most humans can tell when you're  _ different _ .”

A heavy silence blanketed them, before Jisung broke it. 

“Then I guess I’m lucky I’m different too,” He says as he returns to his sketch. 

Changbin stares at Jisung, a ghost of a grin appearing on his lips before he returns to carving. 

_ Mid Winter _

Jisung puffs out a breath of air, lugging his basket with him as he walks through the snow. He walks the usual path, careful not to make it obvious in the snow. He looks behind him, briefly checking if anyone’s following, before he resumes walking. 

The sun shines brightly today, a welcome sight from the dreary clouds and storms that had raged that past few days. There is the faint chirping of winter birds echoing through the forest, the air crisp and fresh. It’s already the middle of winter, and Jisung has spent much more time outside, than winter's past.

He makes it the tree, Changbin already there, sitting on one of the more sturdier boughs. His back is leaning against the trunk, eyes closed and arms behind his head. Jisung looks up into the tree with a big smile. 

“Good morning, Changbin,” Jisung calls up to the wolfman, watching as his eyes flutter open. 

Jisung treds over to the trunk of the tree, pouting up at Changbin who looks down at him with a grin. 

“I brought food,” Jisung says, watching as Changbin’s eyes glinted at the words. 

With surprising grace, Changbin drops from the tree, landing deftly on his feet. Jisung rolls his eyes, scoffing at the display. Changbin wiggles his eyebrows at him playfully, before trying to take the basket from Jisung. Jisung moves just out of reach, eyes narrowing at the other. 

“Where’s my ‘good morning’?” Jisung asks with a slight whine. 

Changbin’s lips quirk up at the corners, before swooping in close and leaning into his ear. 

“Good morning, Firebird,” Changbin murmurs, sending chills down Jisung’s spine.

Jisung blushes, Changbin stepping away with a laugh. It takes Jisung five seconds to realize that the other had used that specific tactic to pickpocket the basket from his grip. He whirls around, a whine catching in his throat, as Changbin laughs again, already digging through the basket. Jisung walks up to the other, trying to take the basket back, but is no match for how quick the other is. He steps back with a pout, bottom lip protruding as Changbin smiles at him. He crosses his arms, watching as Changbin takes a bread roll from the basket and bites into it. 

“It’s still warm,” Changbin sighs out, eyes closing in bliss.

Jisung giggles, skipping up to the other, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I made them today with my grandmother,” Jisung says, proud of himself. 

Changbin finishes off the bread roll, now using his free hand to ruffle Jisung’s hair. Jisung flushes red at the action, still unused to how free the other was with touch. Jisung wasn’t used to such actions of affection from people other than his mother. Boys weren’t allowed to feel such emotion, not allowed to show others their feelings. They weren’t allowed to cry, and they for sure weren’t allowed to show affection. 

Jisung fixes his cloak, pulling his hood over his head to hide the blush on his cheeks. Changbin continues to rifle through the basket, eyes brightening when he pulls back the handkerchief concealing the bottom of the basket. From the bottom of the basket, he picks out a pastry, a jam filling spread across the cream cheese on top of the flaky base. 

Changbin devours the pastry, much like a child would. Jisung giggles at the sight, hand coming up to muffle the noise. Changbin raised an eyebrow at him, Jisung waving him off with his hand. The wolfman continues to pick through the basket, before he holds out a pastry for Jisung. 

Jisung takes the pastry from the other’s hands, a light flush crossing his cheeks when their fingers brush. Even with that slight contact, Jisung can feel the heat radiating from Changbin. He’s warm, like a fireplace, and Jisung wonders how warm his skin would feel if the contact hadn’t been less than 5 seconds. He shoves the pastry into his mouth, trying to will the thoughts away, when Changbin chuckles at him. 

Jisung looks up, cheeks puffing out as he chews. 

“You look like a chipmunk,” Changbin chokes out, covering his mouth as he struggles to chew and laugh at the same time.

Jisung makes an affronted noise low in his throat, as Changbin continues to laugh at him. He swallows, hand coming out of the warmth of his cloak to hit the other on the arm. Changbin lets himself be hit, too busy laughing at the visual of Jisung’s cheeks stuffed with pastry. 

“Maybe I should call you ‘Chipmunk’, instead?” Changbin manages to get out between gasping breaths. 

“I’d rather you didn’t!” Jisung snapped at him, crossing his arms and turning away from the other. 

Changbin managed to calm down enough to try and placate the younger. 

“Come on, Firebird,” Changbin said, strolling up to Jisung’s side, “Why are you pouting?”

Jisung frowned, mouth set as he thought. Changbin noticed the change in his expression, face turning concerned as he looked at Jisung. 

“Hey, Firebird, what’s the matter?” Changbin asked, setting the basket down on a tree stump. 

Changbin cupped the other’s cheek in his hand, Jisung flinching at the touch and turning away. He dropped his hand, guilt eating away as he looked at the cloaked back of the younger one. 

“When I was little, the others would tease me, because of my baby fat, among other things,” Jisung confessed, voice trembling as he spoke, “Especially my older brother. He was the worst of them all.” 

Jisung turned to look back at Changbin, tears glistening in his eyes. 

“So, please keep calling me Firebird,” Jisung asked, a tear falling down his cheeks, “No one’s ever given me a nickname that beautiful before.”

Changbin walked towards the other, who had quickly turned his head back around. He sniffled, ashamed at how worked up he had gotten over childhood teasing. But that teasing had followed him into adulthood, leaving wounds he was sure would never heal. 

Jisung’s head was bowed, so he did not see Changbin step in front of him. Changbin’s hands hover in uncertainty in the space between them, before he lifts a single hand up. A small gasp leaves his lips, when Changbin gently lifts his head up with his fingers. There’s no malice in Changbin’s bright blue eyes, no hatred or disgust. Just plain understanding. 

“Alright, Firebird,” Changbin says softly, brushing his knuckles against Jisung’s cheeks in order to catch his tears. “I promise.”

Jisung sniffles. “Really?” 

Changbin smiles kindly at him, nodding his head. 

Jisung’s face crumples, before he falls into the other’s chest, sobbing. Changbin doesn't flinch, just let’s the boy cry it out. He brushes Jisung’s hood back, combing his fingers gently through his ginger hair. He holds him to his chest, murmuring soft assurances into the crown of his head. 

When Jisung’s whimpers finally die down, Changbin pulls him back to look at him. Jisung’s face is red and splotchy, tear tracks staining his cheeks. He blushes, bringing his hands up to his face to wipe at his tears. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, rubbing at his eyes, “I didn’t mean to cry all over you.” 

Changbin just chuckles softly, brushing aside Jisung’s hands with his own. His thumb brushes across Jisung’s cheek, Jisung’s breath catching at the gesture. Changbin looks at him with such kind eyes, that Jisung feels a warmth in his chest. His eyes flutter away, a flush brushing against his cheeks. 

The wolfman smiles at him, slowly rubbing the soft skin of his cheek under his thumb. The pair are stuck there, sort of in a little trance. A twig snapping has Changbin pushing Jisung behind him, teeth bared as he faces the source of the noise. His body tenses, ready to attack if need be. Changbin growls low in his throat, eyes scanning the area. 

Out from behind a tree, hops a little gray rabbit. Changbin relaxes, Jisung peering over his shoulder to see what he’s staring at. Jisung giggles when he sees the animal, moving out from behind Changbin. He slowly makes his way to the timid animal, footsteps soft and measured. The rabbit sits there stock still, ears twitching as Jisung finally stops a metre away from it. He couches, hand slowly coming out from the depths of his cloak. He holds out the back of his hand, watching with bated breath as the animal hops a little closer.

The rabbit sniffs at his outstretched hand, nuzzling his head against his palm. HIs nose twitches up at Jisung, who coos at the tiny animal. He turns around to look at Changbin, who looks at him with soft eyes. 

Eventually, the rabbit runs off into the forest. Jisung watches it go before standing up. He brushes the snow off his cloak before turning around. 

“You’re good with animals,” Changbin remarks, walking up to him slowly. 

Jisung smiles shyly. “Animals have always liked me, ever since I was little.”

Changbin makes a intrigued face, before speaking. 

“I never asked, but you’re younger than me, aren’t you?” Changbin asks, watching as Jisung hummed in response. 

“This’ll be my twentieth winter, why?” Jisung asked, cocking his head to the side. 

Changbin grinned, before walking back over to the tree stump to pick up the basket. 

“This is my twenty-fifth,” Changbin said, grabbing the basket and holding it under his left arm. 

Jisung sputtered. “You’re the same age as my brother!”

Changbin hummed, eyes looking far off in the distance. “I suppose that’s right.”

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at Changbin’s words, before the other’s head snapped back to look at him.

“Come, let’s walk,” Changbin said, heading off in a direction. 

Jisung blinked, before quickly running after the other. The other’s words spun around in his head. 

_ I suppose that's right. _

Jisung sighed, rolling over onto his side, eyes looking out into the dark night. A lone candle flickered on the windowsill, a small orange beacon amongst the dark haze of night. He sat up, cleaning up the books and parchment on his bed sheets. He piled them all into a stack before getting up and walking to his desk. 

He winced when his bare feet touched the cold floor, toes curling at the ice that flooded his veins. Padding over to the desk, he placed the books and parchment down, before his eyes flickered over to his wicker basket. It’s sitting on the chair, next to the desk, full of books he’s going to take to Changbin tomorrow. 

He’s teaching the wolf to read, but Changbin likes it more when Jisung reads to him. Changbin knows little of reading and writing, something about not having anyone to teach him. It makes Jisung wonder, did Changbin live all alone, deep in the forest? Did the wolfman not have anyone to come home to? 

Jisung frowned, biting his lip as he sank deep into thought. He opens a parchment pad, thumbing through the pages until he stops at a drawing. 

It’s of Changbin, of the day he met him. Eyes fierce and dark, the necklace hanging across his bare chest. Small scars littered in the expanse of skin; long thin ones, thick jagged ones. His shoulders are squared, proud like an alpha wolf. Hair, long and thick brushed against the back of his neck, slightly kept but still untamed. 

Jisung’s fingers brush against the portrait, fingers stopping at his eyes. He looks to his side, fingers looking through the basket for something. Finally, he finds a light blue pastel. He picks it up, carefully shading in Changbin’s eyes. When he’s finished, he leans back, the pop of colour matching well with the black charcoal. 

Nodding his head, he places the pastel back in the basket, before closing the parchment pad. He walks back to his bed, pulling the covers back. Sliding under the sheets, he lays down and closes his eyes. 

He dreams of bright blue eyes and soft black fur. 

Jisung trudges through another layer of snow, slightly swearing as he slipped a little. He righted himself, hoisting his bag back over his shoulder, and tightening his grip on his basket. He continues on, cheeks pink and breath coming out solid. 

When he finally gets to the tree, his frame is shivering, the day having become a little colder than normal. The wind slaps him across the face, a harsh bite of cold air darkening the colour of his skin to red. He adjusts his cloak, pulling on his hood and letting out a shaky breath. 

His head turns when he hears footsteps come, and finds Changbin looking as he always did; a shirt, pants, and boots, but no coat or gloves or scarf. He side-eyes the other, jealous by how he was not the slightest bit cold. He wraps his cloak around his shaking frame tighter, a slight chatter coming from his teeth. By gods, why was it so cold today?

“You okay there, Firebird?” 

Changbin’s voice rips him out of his thoughts, eyes skittering over to the other who was standing close to him now. Jisung can practically  _ feel _ the heat radiating off the older man, wanting to just bury himself against the other for warmth. But he holds back, his cheeks reddening from more than the cold. 

“I-I’m f-fine.” He manages to chatter out. 

He curses his voice for shaking but he was just so cold. Changbin raises his eyebrow at him. Jisung watches as the other seems to wage a war in his head, judging from how he sighed a few moments later. 

“Come Firebird,” Changbin says, going back in the direction he came from, north. Jisung looks at him funny, watching as the other stops briefly to wave him along. 

“Come on,” He beckons with his hand. 

Jisung uncrosses his arms, beginning to follow the wolfman. They walk for a while, Jisung beginning to think that the wolf was finally taking him somewhere to kill him. His thoughts are ripped apart when he spots a wooden cabin amongst the trees. Jisung slows to a stop once they’re a couple meters from the path now leading to the house. 

The house is well-built, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and carving. It’s large, a bit bigger than Jisung’s own house. There’s stairs leading up to a small wooden porch, chairs and other items piled there. A pile of wood sits on the far side of the house, where an axe sat, wedged into a tree stump. 

“Are you coming, Firebird?” 

Jisung looks back at Changbin, who stands at the beginning of the stairs, eyes peering at him. He huffs out abreath, quickly running up to the other. He stops when he gets right next to him, a question on the tip of his tongue. 

“Do you live here?” Jisung asks, as he follows the other up the stairs. 

Changbin snorts. “Why else would I be taking you here?”

Jisung makes a face at the back of Changbin’s head, carefully walking up the steps. Changbin opens the door, a fire slowly burning in an elaborate fireplace. The inside is much more beautiful than the outside. It’s full of wood workings and carvings in the wooden beams of the house. The mantle above the fireplace had many woodcarvings lining it, all at varying degrees of skill. Jisung walks into the house slowly, Changbin letting him take in the high ceilings and the layout. 

The layout is almost like his own house, the front room both being the den and the kitchen. It’s much nicer, more cozy and homey than his own home. He turns around to look at Changbin who smiles at him gently. 

“I forget you’re not like me, sometimes,” Changbin says as he closes the door. 

He walks over to the fire, taking a log from the pile beside it and throwing it in. He stokes the fire with an iron poker. The flames get bigger, the heat now stronger in the house. 

Jisung just stares at his back, eyes curious. 

“Then what are you then?” He asks quietly, not wanting to make the other mad. 

Changbin leans his head back in thought, as he crouches in front of the fire. Eventually he speaks. 

“We’re called by many names; skinwalkers, shapeshifters, wolfmen, lycanthropes,” Changbin lists off as he stares into the fire, “But usually we’re called werewolves.” 

Changbin turns his head to look at Jisung when he says it, Jisung’s eyes glimmering in curiosity. He chuckles at the look on the other’s face before standing up. Jisung watches as he walks over to the kitchen table, not leaving his place from beside the couch. 

“You can sit down, Firebird, I won’t bite you,” Changbin says, not looking up from what he's doing.

Jisung flushes, taking his cloak off and placing it on the coat rack beside the door. He deposits his bag and basket on the floor next to it. Hesitantly, he walks over to a chair close by the fire and sits down. He sighs happily when the heat of the flames washes over him, melting the ice in his bones. Jisung rubs his hands together, trying to warm up quicker, when he feels a weight on his shoulders. 

He looks up, Changbin placing a quilt across his shoulders. Jisung murmurs a thank you, taking the edges of the quilt and wrapping it around his frame. Changbin smiles at him, before walking back to the other side of the room. 

Jisung quietly watches as he starts the fire in the wood stove, picking up a coal black kettle. He places it above the fire, letting the contents warm itself. The younger just observes his surroundings, eyes flickering over carvings of wolves and other animals he;d never seen before. One, painted an orange catches his eye. It's of a bird, a magnificent bird, with bright green eyes and long full tail. It’s wings are raised high above its head, a proud and powerful pose. 

Jisung cocks his head to the side, studying the carving with a sense of familiarity. He’s broken out of his staring when a hand appears, a mug held in it. Jisung bows his head in thanks, taking the mug carefully from Changbin’s grasp. He watches as Changbin sits opposite of him, on a big leather-hide couch. 

Jisung takes a sip of the mysterious liquid, his tongue is flooded with the taste of mint. He lets out a soft sigh, eyes looking up from his cup to find Changbin staring at him. Jisung looks back down, a soft flush painting his cheeks. 

“What?” He asks, hearing Changbin chuckle quietly in response.

“Nothing,” He replies back simply. 

Jisung just huffs at him, returning to sipping at his tea. After a while, Changbin gets up from the couch and walks over to the coat rack. Curiously, Jisung watches as he rifles through his basket, finding finally what he was looking for. A worn, leather bound book sits in his hands as he walks back to where Jisung sits. 

He holds the book out, Jisung taking it with slight hesitance. He is surprised when the other then sits down next to his legs on the floor, eyes looking up at him expectantly. 

“Read to me,” He says, voice low and warm. 

Jisung looks down at the book, before setting his mug by his feet. He gets comfortable, adjusting the quilt around his shoulders. He opens the book to the first page, reading over the title, before flipping to the first page of the first chapter.

Jisung begins to read. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, reading the words written across the pages, but eventually he feels a weight press against his thigh. Jisung stops, looking down and seeing Changbin doze softly against his leg. He slowly sets the book down onto his lap, hand hovering over the other’s head. 

Gently, Jisung cards his fingers through Changbin’s hair. It's thick and soft, the strands falling through his fingers easily. Jisung leans back hand continuing to card through the wolfman’s hair softly. 

Slowly, Jisung closes his eyes, content for now. 

**Author's Note:**

> alright, tell me how that was?? comments and kudos are like energy drinks for me so don't forget to do that before you leave! 
> 
> here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/f1nnsfables) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Finnoola), and have a good day, evening, or night, and seeya later this week for chap 11 of MWT!!!!


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